A/N: I'm so happy with all the feedback I've gotten. So keep reviewing, I better get a lot, seeing as this is another long chapter. And it reveals more of what happened to Hermione before and during the final battle. I'm going on vacation Saturday morning so this will be the last chapter I'll post before I some back a week from today, at least for this story. So enjoy this while it lasts.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

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Chapter 5: A Confession

Tom blatantly refused to let her sleep on the couch.

"Stay in my room, I'll take the couch!" he said, ticked off that she wouldn't listen to him like everyone else.

"No, I'll take it. I'm not going to force you out of your room!" She was standing with her hands on her hips in dark red pajamas, which had appeared in her trunk after she wondered out loud what she would wear to bed. He had to admit she looked quite cute, with her hair frizzing around her face, with a flustered expression.

"You're not forcing me out, I'm going willingly!" He was still wearing his clothes from earlier, having not changed yet. Part of the reason he wanted to sleep in the living room was because he wanted to go have a "chat" with his friends in the Slytherin common room, and he didn't want to wake her up. A part of him didn't want her to know of this darker side of him. He didn't know that she already did.

"Why do you care where I sleep?" she asked, feeling stubborn, putting him under the pressure.

"Because I want you to comfortable!" He regretted saying it, actually yelling it, the moment he did it. A stunned look showed him everything he needed to know. Relief, shock, fright. All he'd said was that he wanted her to be comfy, not that he loved her or anything… Girls take everything too seriously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Um," she bit her lip and backed up to the silver door behind her. "I guess I'll sleep in here, it's not that bad. Well, um, good night Tom!" Then she slunk through the door and snapped it shut behind her, leaving a very confused teen staring after her.

Hermione didn't know why she was freaking out. He wanted her to be comfortable that was all he said. He didn't say he loved her or anything. Maybe he meant it and just didn't say it? Oh just shut it, Hermione, you're just PMSing! So she tried to think of something else as she pulled back the green covers of his bed. But dozing in his bed just made her think of him again. It was all she could think about, and for a minute she thought he might be doing legimins on her. But she was just in denial. Tom was defiantly growing on her.

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He pushed open the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, already thinking of hexes he could use on the troublesome trio. There they were, sitting by the fireplace in the near empty common room. He slammed the painting shut behind him, and they swung around to face him, Rosier still looking troubled.

"What in Merlin's name were you doing this morning!" They didn't respond, only cowered in fear. "If you ever go near her again I will avada you, I swear!" Tremble tremble.

"I'm sorry my lord!" squeaked Avery.

"And don't call me that?" he added. Hermione definitely had altered the future.

"Why?" asked Nott as Tom did his best not to hex him into oblivion.

"Because!" Tom stalked over to an armchair near them. "What did you two want his morning anyway?" Nott shared a look with Avery before answering.

"Well my lord- Tom, we've learned that the mudblood head bitch from Gryffindor has been sneaking around with a Ravenclaw pureblood! It's a disgrace, I thought that Ravenclaw's were smart!"

"And with a Gryffindor as well! Christ! Those mudbloods need to stay in their place!" Tom involuntarily bristled at Nott's comment at the thought of his own heritage, but he didn't stop them. The two boys rambled on as Rosier watched the fire. Tom battled with himself over what path he wanted to take. He could join in with the two boys basing muggleborns or he could get up and walk away to stay with Hermione, who deserved better than racist Slytherins. Once the boys had exhausted the topic Nott rounded on Tom. "So who was the girl, Tom? We never were… properly introduced." Tom scowled; he knew this would come up eventually.

"Does it matter?" He knew that it wouldn't stop them from asking further questions.

"Come on Tom, tell us about your girlfriend," teased Avery, and Rosier snickered softly.

"She's not my bloody girlfriend!" He didn't know why, but he was really pissed. Hermione couldn't be involved in this part of his life, he knew that. There was a part of him that knew she would get hurt, and he didn't want to happen. He was protecting her, and informing to trio of her mystery any further would not be doing so. So he calmed himself and added, "Dippet just wanted me to look after her since I'm head boy." Snicker snicker.

"Then why was she in your bedroom, apparently after emerging from your bed?"

"Because Dippet asked me to let her stay with me. Now back off and stay away from her, okay?" They nodded glumly.

"Sneak around with anyone you want, man, just as long as she isn't a mudblood," said Avery.

"Or a Gryffindor," added Nott. Tom glowered and stomped out of the room.

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As it turned out, Hermione was both a muggleborn and a Gryffindor, as Tom learned the following morning. When he woke up she was pulling strange muggle clothing out of the trunk Dumbledore had given her. He watched as she mumbled about the assorted brands, none of which Tom had ever seen in 1940's muggle London.

"Calvin Klien, to stuck up. Juicy, to many annoying colors. Gap? No, flimsy material. Oh Locoste, I like that color." She pulled a dark blue polo shirt from the trunk as he sat up, cough cough shirtless cough.

"Muggle fashion?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as she pretended not to notice his lack of attire. "I never would have thought…" She gulped and looked back down at the trunk.

"My parents are muggles and my mother is pretty much obsessed with fashion. I've listened to her ranting so much that it finally stuck." He didn't answer, only picked at the blanket he had conjured the previous night. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Why would you think it would? I'm half-blood, my father was a muggle," he spat out the word father and glared at the floor. "A damn bastard, but that's unrelated." Hermione didn't know what to say, other than stutter. He didn't care if she was muggleborn. He didn't care. That either meant one of two things, he cared about her, at least as a friend, or she had changed his opinion in general. He didn't care! She was making progress. "But he's gone now anyway."

"Well, you turned out okay, didn't you?" He looked guiltily at the floor. "Let's get out of here, maybe have a walk in the snow."

"Sure, I'll go change." He stood up, and she was forced to admit that he was in fact, wearing gasp boxers. He ignored her slightly gaping face and returned from his bedroom wearing a worn pair of blue jeans and another black sweater; his hair coifed and gelled into a small wave. She wore the Locoste shirt she had found and a nice pair of black sweat pants, with some really cool black muggle snow boots that resembled pillows molded into shoes. "Moon boots?" he asked with a Malfoy like smirk. She glanced down at the giant shoes and saw they read Moon Boots up the side.

"They'll be good for the snow. I don't think there's a right and left foot, they're like socks." He continued smirking and offered her his arm, which she took. The walk down to the great hall was fairly uneventful, other than an embarrassing run in with Peeves.

"Riddle's got a girlfriend! Riddle's got a girlfriend!" the poltergeist chanted, as Tom began to silently fume, but he didn't let go of her arm. Hermione just glared as the specter did black flips.

"One day, Peeves, I swear you're gonna get it." Peeves giggled and blew a raspberry.

"Tommy doesn't scare old Peevesy, basilisks can't kill the already dead." Hermione froze, but Tom just sent a glare that could freeze the sun at the poltergeist and lead her away. He had calmed down by the time they had reached the great hall. It was only one quarter full, with students scattered among the tables, but Tom didn't want to stay, he saw the troublesome trio snickering behind their hands about him and Hermione. Probably about her boots as well. He grabbed a small stack of toast from a platter at the end of the Slytherin table and wrapped it in a napkin. Hermione admired the hall, thinking it would be dumb to act as if she saw it every day. But she had to admit; it was nice to see the room when people weren't dueling on the tables, without lightning flashing and rain thundering down in buckets. Bellatrix wasn't sending hexes out from under the tables, and Ginny wasn't screaming bloody murder as Harry dodged curse after curse from Voldemort. Tom began to walk toward the front doors and when she didn't follow he walked back to her. Seeing the nervous frown on her face he laid his hand on her arm. Startled, she jerked her head back to him, emerging from her thoughts. Ironically relieved that it wasn't another death eater pulling on her arm, she smiled and let him lead her out of the room and onto the snow covered grounds.

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It was beautiful. Snow blanketed the grounds and the lake was covered by thick ice, as well frosted over with flakes. The gamekeeper's hut was dripping with icicles and had small puffs of smoke being emitted by the chimney. A few lone students were having a snowball fight by the green houses, and owls were flying sleepily around the owlry (A/N: sp?). The setting was peaceful as her and Tom walked around the lake, quietly munching on their toast. But the flashbacks, oh the flashbacks were terrible.

The pain and the loss that had been numb (when she wasn't crying that was) the previous day was back, and was suddenly much more real. They were gone. And being near where they had perished was too much, but she didn't cry. She had to be strong. The more she would think about it, the harder it would be to trust the teen walking beside her. Hugging her coat around her, she breathed the chill in deep, and subtly stepped a little closer to him. He wasn't that bad, and his eyes, though haunted and cold, were not the fire red she had seen in her present.

A sob from across the grounds jerked her out of her thoughts. Whirling around, she saw a figure in red apparate just beyond the gates of Hogwarts. The figure crumpled, and kneeled on the snow-covered grounds. Tom had already begun running to the person, and Hermione was right behind him. It was a girl, with brown hair that ended around her shoulders and a rosy glow on her cheeks. But this girl didn't look all that cheery. Tears streamed down her cheeks in glistening ribbons and she looked exactly how Hermione felt. The girl glared at Tom, flakes of snow getting stuck on her wet face, as Hermione did her best to regain her breath.

"Minella," Tom said as a greeting as the girl took several racked breaths. "What happened?" She pulled what appeared to be a red dressing gown over a pair of blue pajama bottoms and a tank top, shivering from the cold and pure terror.

"Grindelwald… supporters… imperious… parents… Gabriel… destruction." She shuddered, sobbed again, and stood up, shakily on her feet. "Must see Dippet… Gabriel, Kristyn, danger." She lost her balance but Hermione caught her and supported her shoulders.

"Tom, come here and hold her other shoulder." He wrapped his arm just below her shoulders as did Hermione and they pulled her to her feet. With their support she walked out of the snow and into the great hall. The few students that loitered there looked on curiously as Tom and Hermione helped her across the room to a staircase that led to the headmaster's office. Halfway there the girl had stopped crying, but still couldn't walk on her own.

"I think I twisted my ankle," she said, still leaning on her as they continued on their way. Her face was twisted with pain as she stepped gingerly on her foot. It was indeed twisted and she yelped, picking it up off the floor.

"You should go to the hospital wing," Hermione ventured, still confused at the situation, adding dates up in her head. December 1994… Grindelwald had already been defeated, so how had this girl been attacked?

"No, I need to see Professor Dippet!" Tom and the girl continued on as Hermione lagged behind, struggling to remember random facts. Minella… where had she heard that name before? "Peace for all," the girl spat to the gargoyle, and Tom and Hermione stepped onto the stairs, their breath hoarse from the trip and the girl's from obvious stress. He knocked on the door and Dippet called, "Come in!"

When he saw the state of his head boy supporting the injured girl he ushered them into chairs, the biggest of which Tom lowered her into slowly, before sitting down himself.

"Miss Minella! What on earth has happened?" Perry Minella the famous writer? Hermione thought as she slid into a chair on Tom's other side. It must be, head girl and muggle/wizard relationship activist. Targeted by Grindelwald' supporters after his downfall and was killed- oh… She was vaguely aware of the professor handing her tea, which she took and drank before registering what it was. She published her first and only book during her seventh year and was killed shortly after graduation. Her parents were killed by her boyfriend, who had been imperioused at the time, during her seventh year… she looked at the girl, who was glaring at the headmaster, who hadn't sat down.

"Professor Dippet, this is very important!" He sat down behind his desk and peered over his cup at her pleasantly. Foolish man, just because your war is over doesn't mean it's safe, Hermione thought, fighting the urge to snap at him. Tom looked vacantly around the office, in some ways reminding her of the late Luna Lovegood.

"Well continue my dear."

"My parents were just attacked and killed by Grindelwald's supporters, you've got to help me, they've got Gabriel, you've got to do something! Get Dumbledore, get the ministry!" She had started to cry again and Dippet jumped up, alarmed.

"You should have said so!" He turned to the portraits that lined the walls, which Hermione had not noticed upon entering the room, not that she was interested. "Plymote, Maglis, I trust you heard that. Go alert the minister! Tell him to send aurors to Miss Minella's home! Tom, go fetch Dumbledore, and then escort Miss Granger to your rooms, it would be best not to involve you two for your own safety." Tom nodded as Perry crumpled in her chair, weeping openly. Hermione stood up as did Tom, and followed him out of the office onto the stairway, without looking back. This brought back memories of being told her parents had been killed.

McGonagall had called her into her office and said that her parents had been tortured and murdered by Peter Pettigrew, in hopes that it would drive Harry over the edge. It had worked, Harry had been furious, livid, and raging mad and had grabbed his broom to go off and confront Voldemort once and for all, but having not yet destroyed all of his Horcruxes, Voldemort had escaped easily and apparated to Hogsmead, with several death eaters in tow. Harry followed, and engaged in an hour-long duel, draining himself of all energy as Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and all other order members battled the death eaters. McGonagall evacuated all students, though she left Luna and the four, since they were the most trained and order members. The light side had been picked off one by one as Hermione fought Bellatrix, hit by an occasional hex from someone else's battle. She had watched Luna, Ron, and Ginny fall as Harry got more upset and more reckless. Finally everyone had fallen and the death eaters ganged up on her. One of Harry's reflected stunners had hit her, just after the curse had been said, just after she had seen the glint of red in his eye, just after her friend's body had fallen. The death eaters had believed her dead. In a way, she was.

She had woken up sprawled in the snow, surrounded in the snow just as the sun sliced through the darkness of night. It looked as if everyone every one was asleep; the only signs of a battle were the pools of blood around the corpses. She pulled herself to her feet, stumbling and falling often as she struggled to enter the castle, stepping over her fallen friends and enemies alike. The castle was the same graveyard, but any property had been restored, all chairs pushed under the tables. There were still more bodies, even of students who had gotten lost in the terror. Staggering through the halls she had realized she was the only living thing in the building. Paintings were empty, and she assumed their occupants had escaped to others away from the battle. But the headmaster's office was full of yelling, arguing, and weeping portraits. It had stopped when she had entered the room. In fear, the past headmasters had fled to their other paintings, and Dumbledore had alone stayed. He was so hurt and so full of disappointment. But he had brightened, slightly, to see her fall in front of his portrait.

"You're alive," he had said as she sat against the wall below him. She basked in the silence. "Is there any body else?" He took her silence as a no. "And Harry is…" More silence. "And so it begins." She did not cry, she did not show her pain. "You must change this Miss Granger."

"Hermione?" Tom pulled her out of her thoughts. She realized that she had stopped walking, and was some ways behind him in the quiet corridor. "Are you okay?" Concern shone in his eyes, and he walked back to her, pale skin flickering in the sunlight. "You look a little sick." She blinked, realizing she had argued with Pansy Parkinson days before in that exact spot.

"I'm fine," she lied. "I think I'm gonna head back to your room. I'm feeling a little queasy. Go on, I can find my way back." He nodded, and she turned away. I'll find my way back to you, Harry. I'll find my way back.

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A/N: Wow, 9 word pages! New record! Did you like the new chapter? Feeling bad for Hermione? Then I did my job. wink And my apologies to Perry, you'll be happier soon, trust me. Anyway, I'll see you in a week! Oh, a teaser, I almost forgot:

'I'm panicking, I'm actually panicking!'

One more before I leave:

"I thought you couldn't remember?" "I could never forget." "You can always forget."

Oh, BTW, the next chapter is when things start happening. Oh Perry, you must hate me so much now. Toodles! (MWAHA)